


Pillow Talk

by Trotzkopf



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Love, M/M, UST, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trotzkopf/pseuds/Trotzkopf
Summary: Vetvimes prompt drabbles first published on tumblr that end or start in the bedroom. All fit for general audience consumption and so sweet you might get cavities. The chapter titles are the prompts.





	1. “You better have a good reason for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn.”

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is set within my Cravings series.

“Sam?” Someone was shaking his shoulder. He didn’t like it.

“Sam?” They did it again, only with slightly more insistence. That bastard.

“Wake up, commander!”

“Hm? Comfy. Long night. Sleep now,” Vimes mumbled, determined to plunge headfirst back into oblivion.

Then he heard it. The quiet but persistent sob of a young child.

“Oh,” he sat up, eyes still half-closed, his hair sticking out in all sort of directions. His stomach turned and the world was spinning. When had he last eaten? He remembered coming home after a two-day shift, a quick shower, and then nothing. He wasn’t sure he could get up at this point.

“Please can you check on him, I’ll…I’ll be there in a sec,” Sam pleaded, trying to get his eyes to focus.

“But I’m not—“ Vetinari began but stopped himself mid-sentence.

They had both agreed not to make Young Sam’s nanny, Verity, stay over as well on weekends when Young Sam was spending time at their place after the divorce, which was now two weeks ago.   
In practical terms this meant, it was just Sam and him. They were in a committed, long-term relationship, so for all intents and purpose he - Havelock - was also… he couldn’t quite finish the thought.   
It had been clear beforehand that Young Sam would be spending time with them, but Vetinari’s thought processes had not gone much further than that. However, they were going there now, and it was ever so slightly unsettling.

“Alright,” he heard himself say and got out of bed. This might be unchartered territory, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. Besides, it wasn’t as if he could change the facts, so he’d better try and get used to it.  

“Thank you, be right…uhm,” Vimes muttered.

Vetinari walked into the adjacent room which had been refurbished to suit the needs of a toddler. Young Sam was sitting up in bed, clearly upset.

“Can I help you?” Havelock asked. It seemed like a sensible thing to ask.

They stared at each other for a few heartbeats before Young Sam’s face contorted, his mouth opened and he wailed out of the top of his lungs.

Vetinari’s eyes went wide. “Oh dear, uhm, there, there,” he reached for the screaming boy and picked him up by the armpits, holding him at arm’s length.

What did you do with upset children? He drew a blank. Okay. Ah! What did you do with upset dogs? Make them comfortable, scratch them behind the ears and pat them. He narrowed his eyes at the child. Ear scratching seemed an unlikely course of action here. He pulled the boy against him into a hug and patted his back.

Young Sam flailed and screamed for a few more moments and then he stopped and a small head came to rest on Havelock’s shoulder.

“There, there.”

Vimes more fell than walked through the doorway behind them, he still looked dazed. “Everythin’ ‘kay?”

Vetinari turned to face him; Young Sam now apparently quite happily sucking on his thumb.

“Yes, I think we’re good here. Go back to sleep.”

Vimes blinked a few times. “You sure? I mean I can—“

“No need. We got this.”

Young Sam hiccupped in agreement.

The End


	2. “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

It was strange sleeping alone again. The Patrician turned over yet again, trying to get comfortable and failing. He knew the bed wasn’t the problem. Neither was the pillow nor the blanket. However, he had shared it over the past weeks with another living, breathing creature. Funny, how sometimes you only missed someone when they were gone.

He flopped onto his back and sighed. It looked like he had another sleepless night to look forward to. At this rate, he’d drop unconscious at some point during the day from sheer exhaustion. Maybe that would do? It would have to because short of—

His hand automatically went to the dagger under his pillow as the door opened. Someone came inside, quietly, but they weren’t exactly trying to hide their presence.

“Sam?” Vetinari sat up and squinted into the gloom.

“…yes,” the owner of the voice grumbled back. “I can’t… bloody damn, I can’t get to sleep!”

Havelock was grateful Sam could probably not see him very well now with the demon gone because he was grinning from ear to ear.

Vimes continued, “And I saw how you looked this morning and…it’s not just me, is it?”

“It’s not just you,” Vetinari admitted, scooted over and patted the bed next to him.

There was a distinct thumping sound as if someone was taking their boots off, followed by the rustling of clothes. Sam climbed into bed and suddenly the world felt heavy and warm and right again.

They looked at each other in the semi-darkness, their faces inches apart.

“Just—“

“Hm?” Sam grunted, already nodding off.

“Please don’t lick my face in the morning. I someone don’t think your wife would approve now that you’re human again.”

Sam opened his eyes and glared at him before he smirked. “You wish.”

Havelock said nothing and closed his eyes. He could hear the steady sound of Sam’s breathing and the last thought he had before he fell asleep was, _“Maybe.”_

The End


	3. “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

The Patrician sat on the edge of his bed when Commander Vimes appeared in the doorframe. They acknowledged each other with a brief nod.

“Your head will be sore for a few days, but I see no lasting damage. Do take it easy for a day or two, your lordship, doctor’s orders,” Dr Lawn said before he took his leave.

“You may go, Drumknott. I have to talk to the commander in confidence.”

The secretary bowed and closed the door behind him, leaving Vimes and Vetinari alone in the sparsely furnished bedroom.

“You really need to find a better hobby, your lordship,” Vimes said.

“Yes, very droll,”Vetinari snorted, rubbing the back of his neck and hissed as a stab of pain flashed through his head when he tried to move it from side to side.

“Not that again!” Someone said.

The Patrician’s face was suddenly leaning against the cold metal of Vimes’ breastplate. Strong hands had a firm grip on his shoulders and eased him back onto the pillow. He allowed it because it was Sam, and lying down seemed like a really good idea right now. He groggily opened his eyes when he felt a calloused hand brush unruly strands of hair from his forehead.

“Say, why are you only this nice to me when I’m half out of it?” Havelock asked.

There was a chuckle. “Because that’s the only time you allow it.”

Was that true? Probably.

“Is that also why you steal kisses when I’m unconscious?”

The hand stopped. “How…”

“Your filthy habit leaves a rather astringent aftertaste.”

The mattress dipped when Sam sat down. Leaning forward, he whispered, “And how do you know it was me?”

Vetinari snorted. “No-one else would dare.”

“Yes, because you’re so scary when you’re lying on the floor, face ashen and blood oozing into your hair.”

Was that a hint of concern in Sam’s voice? It made Havelock smile.

“No. I rather think they fear what my elusive lover will do to them if they find out. Rumour has it they are a very dangerous and rather possessive person.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Sam pressed a kiss to his temple. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I have a would-be assassin to catch.”

The End  


End file.
